


Coming of Age and Other Clichés

by roseclaw



Series: Slayer'verse [9]
Category: High School Musical, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-14
Updated: 2010-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-10 03:05:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/94772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseclaw/pseuds/roseclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taylor finally has the hang of this slaying thing. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming of Age and Other Clichés

**Author's Note:**

> For the [](http://community.livejournal.com/hc_bingo/profile)[**hc_bingo**](http://community.livejournal.com/hc_bingo/) challenge for my [embarrassment square](http://autonomyanatomy.livejournal.com/26806.html). Quick beta by [](http://saekokato.livejournal.com/profile)[**saekokato**](http://saekokato.livejournal.com/), because she's awesome.

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

| 

  
[bandom](http://autonomyanatomy.livejournal.com/tag/bandom), [bob is more awesome than you](http://autonomyanatomy.livejournal.com/tag/bob%20is%20more%20awesome%20than%20you), [buffy-verse](http://autonomyanatomy.livejournal.com/tag/buffy-verse), [cliche](http://autonomyanatomy.livejournal.com/tag/cliche), [fic](http://autonomyanatomy.livejournal.com/tag/fic), [frank is shorter than you](http://autonomyanatomy.livejournal.com/tag/frank%20is%20shorter%20than%20you), [gen](http://autonomyanatomy.livejournal.com/tag/gen), [h/c bingo](http://autonomyanatomy.livejournal.com/tag/h/c%20bingo), [hsm](http://autonomyanatomy.livejournal.com/tag/hsm), [rating: pg-13](http://autonomyanatomy.livejournal.com/tag/rating:%20pg-13), [taylor kicks ass](http://autonomyanatomy.livejournal.com/tag/taylor%20kicks%20ass), [taylor the slayer verse](http://autonomyanatomy.livejournal.com/tag/taylor%20the%20slayer%20verse)  
  
  
---|---  
  
**Fandom:** Bandom, HSM, BtVS lore  
**Pairing:** gen with background Bob/Frank  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** 1,464 words  
**Spoilers:** n/a  
**Warnings:** This is written for my embarrassment square, so it contains squick. It contains menstrual blood and all bodily functions that accompany it.  
**Author's Note:** For the [](http://community.livejournal.com/hc_bingo/profile)[**hc_bingo**](http://community.livejournal.com/hc_bingo/) challenge for my [embarrassment square](http://autonomyanatomy.livejournal.com/26806.html). Quick beta by [](http://saekokato.livejournal.com/profile)[**saekokato**](http://saekokato.livejournal.com/), because she's awesome.  
**Disclaimer:** Everyone here belongs to themselves, Kenny Ortega and Disney, or Joss.  
**Summary:** Taylor finally has the hang of this slaying thing.

  
**Coming of Age and Other Clichés**

  
Taylor really loves her new body. There was nothing wrong with her old body, but she really loves her new one. It's faster and stronger, and she feels so much sexier. Her clothes cling in the right places. She can kick well over her head and blow a vampire through a wall with a single hit. She has more self-confidence than most (sane and therefore excluding the Evans twins) high school students usually have. More than she's ever had.

She can kick butt and take names. It's just. It's amazing. She still holds a grudge against Frank and Bob, but. She has curves and muscles and a new sense of self worth.

She doesn't have a boyfriend again, which is a complete waste of her new body. But she understands Frank and Bob's paranoia about the Slayer not having a boyfriend – to a degree. It's not like they are completely chaste or anything resembling chaste. (Frank talks way too much about his sex life with Bob. It's a lot of stuff that Taylor seriously does not need to know. Even if they're more like [incestuous] older brothers than parents. Still.)

Patrols are routine now. There are no surprises. Taylor knows how to dress herself to attract the right type of vampiric attention and to finish them off. She knows how to hide her scrapes and bruises and remove even the trickiest blood from her clothing.

She knows that she's become damn good at what she does. And she has Bob, Frank, genetics, and a predestined calling to thank for that.

However, none of that covers what type of tampons to buy. Taylor's never been athletic, but she knows that some brands are better than others. It's not like she can ask her friends – or Bob or Frank. The former would include an excuse as to why she needs sports tampons, and the latter is, well, they're not exactly the foremost authority on women.

The symptoms are less intense now, and what isn't covered by her new athleticism, is covered by Midol.

Still. Taylor made the stupidest decision to wear white pants. She's not even sure why. Slaying in white pants is a dumb idea. But it was either these pants or a short skirt, and there is no way that Taylor is slaying in a short skirt.

Even worse. Taylor needs a new brand of tampon. It's – she doesn't even notice until Bob asks if she's hurt. Bob, who's never had a girlfriend in his life. Bob, who thinks that all blood comes from injuries.

Taylor frowns at him. "No, it was an easy stake."

"You're bleeding, though," Bob says.

Frank is trying his hardest to maintain a straight face, which isn't really that hard.

Taylor examines her arms and torso. "Where?"

Bob points to Taylor's pants.

Taylor looks down. It looks like she's been shot.

"Oh God," she whispers. She glares at Frank when a giggle escapes him.

"I think that's enough slaying," Frank manages to say. He sounds soft – fond – when he says it, and Taylor wants to die.

She sinks down to her knees in the grass of the cemetery, and she doesn't even bother to think about grass stains. Her pants are ruined anyway. It doesn't matter. It's. God. Taylor wants clean pants. She doesn't let her hips come in contact with her ankles, though. She tries to pull her pants away from her skin, or bring down the hem of the shirt she's wearing, but it doesn't work.

Bob and Frank quickly whisper to each other. Undoubtedly about female anatomy and physiology. Frank had a girlfriend once, or so he claims.

She's not going to cry. That's just hormones. She's not going to freaking cry.

Bob puts a hand on her shoulder. "Come on, kid." He helps her stand back up.

Taylor now knows why all the guys she's met through Bob and Frank are _guys_. Except Victoria, who wasn't exactly hands-on when it came to fighting vampires and demons. She can kick ass better than anyone Taylor's ever seen, but she doesn't physically fight. It's totally a sexist thought, and Taylor hates herself for it. She's not the first girl to be in this situation. All the Slayers who came before her were girls… and all the Slayers who will come after her are girls.

Taylor sucks in a ragged breath, and when it's released it sounds like a chocking sob. She hates herself more.

Bob hands Taylor his hoody as he and Frank direct her to their car. The hoody is huge, and it falls down almost to Taylor's knees. The hoody is warm and comfortable and smells like Bob's shampoo.

She says nothing on the car ride to Bob and Frank's place. Bob drives, and Frank talks to one of his contacts about something. Taylor curls in on herself and waits for a quick death. She's all too aware of the dampness in her pants and the uncomfortable stickiness and that she's ruined Bob's hoody, too. She feels awful about that.

She barely notices that Bob stops someplace and Frank races out of the car and back in record time.

She does notice when they stop at Bob and Frank's place.

Bob pushes her upstairs and into the shower – already warmed up. She doesn't even bother taking her clothes off. However, Bob leaves, and when Taylor finally has the sense to peel off her soaked clothing, there's a fresh change of clothing on the sink. On top of the clothes is a package of pads.

She kinda likes Frank a little more, even if he is an asshole.

Taylor actually cleans herself in the shower, vindictively using up the rest of the shampoo. She thinks it's ridiculous that Bob and Frank use the same shampoo, and that leads to thinking about them in the shower - together, and those are mental images that Taylor really doesn't want.

When she leaves the bathroom – clean, thank God – she finds Frank on the phone. Bob sits off out of the way in a corner of the kitchen. He's mending a pair of pants.

Frank motions Taylor over as he says into the phone, "Yeah, she's right here." He then hands Taylor the phone.

Taylor frowns, but she takes the phone. "Hello?" she says cautiously.

"Hi, Taylor." It's a woman. Taylor was certain Frank still thought girls had cooties. "I'm Jamia."

"You're a real person?" Taylor asks. She had been almost positive that Frank had made up the girlfriend thing.

Jamia laughs heartily. "Yeah, I'm real. Frank told me you had a rough night slaying."

Taylor feels her face heat, and Frank watching her intently didn't help matters. "Yeah," she says quietly. She's going to kill him for sharing that information.

"He even bought you pads," Jamia says. "He wouldn't even do that for me when we were dating."

"Oh," Taylor says softly. Okay, maybe she won't kill Frank. Too much.

"It's nothing to worry about," Jamia says breezily. "But I can help you out if you'd like."

"What do you mean?" Taylor asks curiously.

"As one female hunter to another, I can offer you some advice," Jamia clarifies.

"Does that include with putting up with Frank?" Taylor asks, narrowing her eyes at Frank.

Frank flips her off and wanders away to bother Bob.

Taylor makes herself at home on the couch.

"It could, but if you haven't killed him yet, he'll – you grow an immunity," Jamia says. Taylor can tell that she's smiling. "But that's not what I meant."

"I know," Taylor says, gaining confidence.

"Are you on any birth control?" Jamia asks. Taylor's not used to anyone other than her doctor asking that, and it takes her a moment. She's also not used to sharing information with strangers. Even if Jamia did date Frank.

"No," she says.

"It will make sure your period never sneaks up on you, and it will give you a lighter flow," Jamia says. She sounds very matter-of-fact, like she's had this conversation before. It makes Taylor feel moderately better that she's not the first person Jamia's consoled.

Taylor makes an embarrassing wheezing sound.

"You okay, honey?" Jamia asks.

"Uh-huh," Taylor manages.

"Okay," she says. There's only a bit of skepticism in her voice. "Also, Playtex Sport is a great defense. And a panty liner."

"Okay." Taylor's voice is very small.

"And Bert's Bees bar soap is really great for removing blood stains," she adds. "Are you really doing okay?"

"Um," Taylor says.

"Would you feel better if I told embarrassing stories about Frank?" Jamia offers.

Taylor looks to Frank, who's trying very hard not to pay attention to what Taylor's saying.

"I would love for you to do that," Taylor says decisively. She gives Frank a tiny smile. "I'd like that a lot."

end


End file.
